


A Little Of That Human Touch

by theladyscribe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 10:08:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/951840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladyscribe/pseuds/theladyscribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He did not choose this life; it was chosen for him. Changeling, his family called him. Elf-child. Monster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Of That Human Touch

All he wants – all he needs – is someone to love him. But in his real skin, he is hideous. He did not choose this life; it was chosen for him. Changeling, his family called him. Elf-child. Monster. They cast him out, sent him into the wilderness, left him bereft of companionship.

***

He doesn’t know how he changes the first time, only that he wants to be different, _normal_ , so desperately that he imagines he can change his appearance, and then he does. That day, he is found by a girl – a pretty girl, with dark skin and dark eyes and a pretty smile – and she takes him home with her. Her name is… it is… He can’t remember. He just knows that she has a pretty smile and her laughter is like warm sunshine against his skin.

And then that night, while they make love ( _making **love**_ ), she begins to pull his face down to hers and it peels off in her hands. She screams, and he screams too, the sheer terror in her eyes more painful than the loss of his skin. He doesn’t know what to do as she scrambles backward, shrieking her horror as he touches his face where the skin has come away. It itches, and he tugs at it, staring in fascination at the mass of flesh in his hands.

She begins to cry as she moves backward, tripping out of the bed and away from him. _Stay away!_ she shouts as he rises. Her words pierce him to the heart, and he understands. He is ugly, even to her.

Her fear stings, and he does what he did when his family rejected him: he runs.

***

The second time he changes, it is on purpose. He has been watching a girl in the town on the edge of the woods, sees her mooning over a boy, and he thinks, _I could look like him_. And he does. But more than that, he begins to think like the boy. All of a sudden, the boy’s memories are his own. He doesn’t know how it happened, but that doesn’t matter. All that matters is that he can be the boy.

So he goes after the girl himself. He comes to her in the night, and she smiles, and it is like before, with his first love. Except this time he does not change in the middle of making love. This time, it lasts longer, the transformation not happening until she has fallen asleep.

It is agony, and he leaves before she wakes.

***

Slowly, he grows braver. He figures out that the more memories he culls, the longer he can stay one person. He learns that he can feel the itch before the glamour wears off.

He finds a girl and he stays with her for days before it falls apart.

He wakes in the middle of the night with the itch. He can feel his skin as it begins to melt away from muscle and bone. He tries to get up quickly, quietly, so he can hide and shed and maybe, hopefully, return in the same skin. He loves this girl.

But then she wakes up too. And it is the first time all over again, her screams drowning out his own agony, her fear clawing at him until he can’t take any more. He hits her, but it doesn’t stop the screaming. So he hits her again. The blow knocks her to the floor and she shuffles away, into the kitchen, where she brandishes a butcher knife at him.

But he is stronger than she, and he leaves her in a puddle of blood (hers) and skin (his).

He isn’t sure what to make of the thrill that runs through him.

***

Time passes, and he grows even stronger. He thrills at touch, but even more than that, he thrills at the power he has. Girls – women – are putty in his hands. He can control them, and if they won’t be controlled, he can force them into it.

He discovers that the greatest power is love, and he can manipulate it to get what he wants.

And if they won’t love him, they will feel the same pain he felt, feel their flesh melt from their bones, watch as their skin falls away and exposes them for what they are.

Nothing but a bag of bones.

***

His last skin is his favorite.

It’s twisted like he is, distorted to the point where the man hardly knows himself.

The memories come and he _almost_ feels sorry for the little boy who saw his mother burn on the ceiling. But then he remembers hitting puberty and a parade of girls passes through his memories. He cannot feel sympathy for someone who finds love so easily.

He wants to punish the man for it, so he tracks the brother’s friend, convinces her to let him in, and he ties her up. He knows it would horrify the man, and that only makes cutting the girl even better. She doesn’t deserve this skin.

But then he hears the door slam open, and he knows the game will soon be up. So he slips out the window and escapes to shed again.

He takes the girl’s skin for a little while before reclaiming his favorite.

But it wasn’t meant to be, and the bullet sears through him. His last thought is that he will die handsomely.


End file.
